


The Way You Look Tonight

by Ziraley



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Demon, Fluff, M/M, Romance, angel - Freeform, im not good at tags, soft, they make out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:28:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23797693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ziraley/pseuds/Ziraley
Summary: Crowley invites Aziraphale over to his flat for some wine.Well, lets just say it escalates.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 58





	The Way You Look Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: Hello! I haven’t written anything in a long time, but after being in the Good Omens fandom for nearly 4 months, I’ve finally caved.
> 
> This is simply a one-shot/short story. This is my first time writing Crowley and Aziraphale, so let’s see how that goes, shall we?
> 
> Also, I know we don’t exactly get to see Crowley’s lounge in the show, so using the description from the book, I try to conjure up my own vision of his lounge as if it was set in 2019.
> 
> Below is a link to the song that inspired me to write this. I can’t help but think of them dancing together to this. Please give it a listen!
> 
> https://youtu.be/gsALgi5yM_A

2 months after Armageddon. 

~

It was always The Ritz. 

They celebrated here after stopping Armageddon a couple of months ago. It wasn’t so hard to tempt Aziraphale to afternoon tea there in between. It was almost routine.

They’d always walk out together and get into Crowley’s car. Crowley would always remember to hold open the passenger door for Aziraphale before getting in himself. When Aziraphale asked him why he did that, Crowley would just shrug him off or change the subject. 

Then, Crowley would drive Aziraphale back to his bookshop, stopping outside and cutting out the ignition. They would sit in a comfortable silence for a moment, before Crowley would say something along the lines of:

“Well, that hit the spot. Same time next week?” 

And Aziraphale would nod and smile.

“Sounds absolutely wonderful. I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” 

He’d get out of the Bentley, walk through the old doors of the shop, and turn to give one last small wave to Crowley before closing the doors softly. Crowley - usually needing five minutes to collect himself \- would wipe the fog from the driver’s window where he was staring out from before anyone could see how infatuated he was.

It had been like this for the last 2 months.

This evening was going to be different, though. It had to be.

***

As always, they walked out together, the sunset casting a calm glow through the quiet, Sunday evening streets. 

“Splendid as always!” said Aziraphale blissfully, as they walked to Crowley’s car. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed,” Crowley said, as they put on their belts. “Where do you want to go now?” He turned on the car, music playing from the radio. He’d never usually ask that.

“I assume to the bookshop, but I suspect you have another place in mind?” Aziraphale inquired, watching Crowley as he turned down the music. Crowley raised his eyebrows, and began to drive. 

“I was thinking... We could go back to my place? I have some old bottle of wine lying around, if you want to try. Leroy Rich, or something...” he trailed off. But he knew the name off by heart, of course. It was-

“Domaine Leroy Richebourg Grand Cru? Oh, I’ve heard that is a fantastic wine! You know, there are only 700 bottles made each year. How could you possibly have got your hands on that?” Aziraphale asked, sounding quite impressed. 

“Wasn’t too difficult,” He gave a nonchalant shrug. “Just knew some people, is all.” he replied, trying to sound suave. 

“Well, I suppose I will take you up on your offer, Crowley. I believe I have to see this wine for myself.” admit Aziraphale, and Crowley shot him a quick glance, the angel not noticing. He nearly hit the curb. 

“R-Really? Great! It will be a relaxing evening then. Cool.” he tried to compose himself, and ever so slightly applied more pressure to the accelerator pedal. 

***

“You can sit anywhere,” Crowley gestured to the living room of his flat. “Make yourself comfortable.” 

Crowley had made himself a nice and modern home. Dark interior, not a spec of dust on any surface. It was as if he had just bought the place, furnished and spanking new. The living room was spacious, a dim lighting causing shadows to seep into the room. A long white leather sofa faced a wide flat screen TV, which was perched up on the wall, a pristine electric fireplace underneath it. 

“Thank you. I must say, you have this place kept immaculate, Crowley!” stated Aziraphale, removing his coat. 

“Not much a miracle can’t do, angel!” Crowley said. “I’ll get the wine. Here, give me your coat, I’ll put it away.” Crowley vanished to the kitchen, leaving Aziraphale to have a nose around the room. His attention was drawn to a rather tall display cabinet. It was black, with glass doors, so you could see what it entailed. There were some small bronze statues, collectibles perhaps. Some CD’s lined up together, music Aziraphale hadn’t quite heard of. 

“Oh, that looks familiar...” he muttered to himself, inspecting a smooth, round cup, looking like it were made from brown clay. 

“That cup is from Italy. 41 AD, if I’m not wrong.” he said, inspecting another artifact. 

“That cockade is from Paris, in 1793. I wore that..” he trailed off when he realized something. 

In the cabinet were tokens that Crowley had taken from every moment in history they were together. There was the coin Crowley used when they met William Shakespeare in 1601. Beside that was the tartan flask, lid and all from 1960. 

There was something from every moment with them. 

His attention was pulled to the sudden sound of music coming from a corner in the room. Surprised, he looked around, and sat by the window was what appeared to be a gramophone, but was neater and rather modern. An upbeat, foot-tapping song flowed softly from the speaker, unmistakably retro swing music. 

“Hm, that’s not very Crowley, is it?” Aziraphale thought, amused. Just then, Crowley had returned. Two wine glasses in one hand, bottle in the other. 

“Ah, Crowley. I was just admiring your gramophone! Quite a lovely thing.” Aziraphale said, walking over to the couch, and sitting himself down. 

“Yes, handy little thing. Wine?” Crowley handed a glass to Aziraphale, who took it from him. He poured them both a drink, settling down onto the couch too. 

“This wine is simply divine! Mind if I look for the date?” Aziraphale asked Crowley, who nearly choked on his drink. 

"Date?!” Crowley quickly trying to compose himself, clearing his throat. Aziraphale looked puzzled. 

“Yes, on the bottle of wine?” asked Aziraphale, not picking up on the reason for Crowley’s behavior. Certainly not noticing how Crowley’s once pale complexion, had now turned rather flush. 

“Oh, yeah, sure. Here.” Crowley handed Aziraphale the bottle. The music was still playing quietly in the background, setting a relaxed mood to the apartment. 

“Ah, 1940... I remember that year like it was yesterday.” said Aziraphale wistfully. He concentrated on the bottle for a moment. “Do you remember that time? When you saved those books for me?” he asked Crowley, perhaps nostalgic. 

Of course Crowley remembered that moment. The memory played out in his mind as clear as anything. Aziraphale needed help, so he was there. He’d lost the books, what would be easier than a *snap* and a little miracle? How much he wanted to say “Oh, don’t worry, angel, I’ve got you covered!” when Aziraphale was obviously troubled. Maybe he could have lingered for a second longer when handing the books back to him. Maybe “Lift home?” could have meant something more? 

It was iconic. Like ‘Casablanca’. 

“Yeah, I remember.” He paused for a moment. “Messy night.” He took another drink. 

“Indeed it was. But I’m still glad you saved those books. I’ve cherished them ever since that night.” said Aziraphale fondly, having a drink too. 

Neither of them shared a word between them, the music filling in the blanks. Glen Miller’s ‘In The Mood’ played smoothly from the gramophone. The sun was well gone by now, and the room was set with an orange aura. The glow softened both of their features, making them look relaxed. 

“I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up, really.” Aziraphale confessed, sinking into the sofa. He looked at Crowley, with genuine gratitude. 

“I dunno, you could have pulled an MacGyver on them?” he said, humor in his tone. 

“Um, who is MacGyver? One of yours?” asked Aziraphale, confused. Crowley was astonished. 

“Who is MacGyver?!” 

***

The wine bottle was empty after less than an hour, and the lounge was full of laughter from Crowley and Aziraphale. The two were sharing stories of deeds they had done over the years. Well, the stupidest ones. 

“Wait, so you deliberately stuck the £2 coin to the ground? As one of your schemes? Why?” Aziraphale was quite entertained by Crowley’s story. 

“Yes, because who doesn’t see a £2 coin and want it for themselves?” Crowley said shamelessly, finishing off his drink. 

“But you tried to pick it up. You tempted yourself, Crowley.” said Aziraphale, feigning shock. “You could have...” The wine had gone to both of their heads by now. “Oh look, now I’ve forgotten my words!” 

“Discorporated!” Crowley exclaimed, lifting his arms up for dramatic effect, nearly dropping his wine glass. “Oop, better put this down.” 

“Yes! Very much so! Not a nice place to be.” grumbled Aziraphale, a small pout forming on his lips. He stared into his wine glass, not much left now. Crowley’s tipsy mind remembered Aziraphale’s discorporation, and racked itself to distract him from that memory. 

“I suppose it’s not.. Sorry, angel.” he said, looking at Aziraphale, a tone of regret in his voice. Coincidentally, not even a second after saying that, another song had begun to play on the gramophone. Crowley knew just which song to ‘miracle’ onto the gramophone. 

“Oh my goodness! I absolutely adore this song!” Aziraphale piped up, an almost child-like excitement filled him and his face was washed with a distant longing. Of course, the sight of this nearly made Crowley cry with pure adoration for the angel. But all he could do was sit, stare, and take in the beauty sat in front of him. 

***

The song Crowley chose was “The Way You Look Tonight” by Fred Astaire. 

Why? Simply because one night after dropping Aziraphale home after their traditional rendezvous, Aziraphale had forgotten his reading glasses in the car. He likes to use them when reading the menus at The Ritz. 

“You know, if you didn’t want the trouble of glasses when you read, you could just... Miracle them away.” 

“Yes, but, well... I think they’re rather nifty!” 

On this particular evening, Crowley had driven well away from the bookshop before he actually noticed them on the passenger seat. The Bentley’s tires nearly produced flames from the sudden skidding halt, thanks to Crowley. He picked them up carefully. 

“Holy shit, he forgot his glasses!” Crowley exclaimed, removing his own sunglasses to get a better look at the spectacles. They were delicate, small and round. 

Like the angel. 

The hasty beeping of a car horn pulled Crowley away from his thoughts. With a scowl, he quickly swerved his car around, miraculously not hitting anything or anyone, and made his way back to the bookshop. 

He pulled up outside the bookshop once more, noticing a light was on upstairs in the building. He needn’t worry about his sunglasses now. It was late, dark, and he doubt he’d run into anybody. Carefully, he put Aziraphale’s glasses into his coat pocket, and made his way over across the road. He knocked on the bookshop door, and waited for an answer. 

If you listened very carefully, you could hear the muffled sound of music coming from the bookshop. It was distant, but Crowley found himself being pulled to it. He followed the song, opening the door of the shop quietly. He closed the door behind him, scanning the room to bear his surroundings in the dark. 

The song was clearer now. It was a swing song, the type that made you feel floaty when you listened to it. He noticed a warm light at the top of the stairs, presumably where Aziraphale was. He sauntered over quietly, so as to not frighten the angel. 

“Uh, hey, Aziraphale, you forgot these...No. Hey, angel, these are yours, I think? No, that’s too obvious, of course you know.” Crowley was practicing what he would say when he gave Aziraphale back his glasses as he crept up the stairs. As he made his way up, Aziraphale came into view through the staircase, the music flooding the room. Crowley stayed low, observing. Listening. 

Aziraphale was, as usual, organizing his books. But he looked.. Alluring.. Beautiful.. Captivating. He had removed his coat, which was likely to be hung up neatly somewhere. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, an almost daring look for the angel to pull off. His bow-tie was removed, and the top buttons of his shirt were undone. His brown vest was snug on his hips, and when he reached up to place a book on the shelf, a little bit of his tummy showed. He was quite relaxed, doing what he loves to do the most. 

Internally, Crowley was screaming. His heart was beating in his ears right now, and he almost couldn’t hear the music that was describing his feelings for the angel. Aziraphale was singing contently to himself. Or so he thought. 

“...yes you're lovely, with your smile so warm. And your cheeks so soft. There is nothing for me but to love you, just the way you look tonight.” Aziraphale sang softly, examining the couple of books in the crook of his arm. Crowley didn’t want to move. He wanted to savor this scene for eternity. But he knew he couldn’t stay and watch how the light made his figure glow,  so angelic . How he sang so heartfelt and almost waltzed across the room to retrieve more books to stock on the shelves. How he put so much care into his skill, when he looked fondly at each book, perhaps a thoughtful memory springing into his mind each time. 

The song was coming to an end, and Crowley took that as his que to leave. He miracled Aziraphale’s glasses onto the table with the books, placed so that Aziraphale would see them in plain sight. He took one more loving look at the angel, taking him in as he took a deep breath, and then proceeded down the stairs quietly. 

At his car, he looked up at the window where Aziraphale was working. He thought about him. How he felt about him. How he made him feel. 

The light suddenly switched off. 

“Must have found his glasses.” Crowley said to himself, and got into his car. 

***

“Oh my goodness! I absolutely adore this song!” Aziraphale gasped. Crowley watched Aziraphale’s face light up with bliss, the song working it’s magic. 

“Some day, when I'm awfully low, and the world is cold...” Aziraphale sang, perhaps not as well as when Crowley first heard him, but Crowley found it quite endearing to see him so happy. 

That’s when Crowley plucked up his courage. 

He stood up from the sofa, as casual as he could - in this case he hoist himself up, his hands held out at either side of himself for balance - and made his way over to the gramophone. He turned up the music, not blasting, but just so that it felt like the music was wrapping you in a reassuring hug. Almost so that Fred Astaire himself was saying “You got this. Go get him, kid.” 

Crowley turned around to see Aziraphale tapping his foot to the music, humming contently to himself. He walked over to him, stopping in front of him and put out both of his hands in front Aziraphale. 

“...There is nothing for me but to love you, just the way you look tonight...” 

Aziraphale looked up at Crowley, confused. “Are you.. Do you want my glass?” 

“No, Aziraphale. I... I want to take your hands... If that’s alright.” Crowley said, shyly. He wasn’t his usual confident and bold self right now. He was nervous. Aziraphale’s eyes opened a little wider, and Crowley looked away, thought about snatching his hand back and saying “I’m sorry, forget I did that.” 

“Yes... Yes, of course, Crowley.” Aziraphale took Crowley’s hands in his - soft and warm to touch, a gentle grasp - and Crowley felt electric shocks shooting up through his arms. 

“..With each word your tenderness grows, tearing my fear apart, and that laugh that wrinkles your nose, it touches my foolish heart..” 

Crowley looks at Aziraphale, not believing the words he was hearing. Aziraphale was holding his hands. In Crowley’s flat. They were in Crowley’s flat holding hands. 

“Okay... Can we... Can we try something?” Crowley asks, leading them away from the sofa, to the middle of the room. Aziraphale follows him. 

Crowley was going to try and dance with Aziraphale. He’d seen lots of movies, he’d seen how they do it, the music was perfect. Except, he had never actually danced before. 

“Lovely...Never, ever change...”

They both stood together in silence, still holding hands. Aziraphale giggled sheepishly, his eyes trying to meet Crowley’s. Crowley had never been close to Aziraphale like this. His sunglasses had slid down his nose, so he could see Aziraphale’s stunning cornflower blue eyes, quite possibly the most beautiful shade of blue he’d ever seen. The lighting of the room would give you the impression that they were glowing. It would be stupid of anyone to not be nearly intimidated by how striking they were. 

He didn’t even notice Aziraphale was doing the same. With his sunglasses no longer shielding his eyes, Aziraphale could appreciate how Crowley’s eyes were the color of the finest whiskey money could buy, with the sunlight shining and rippling through it. He thought if he stared for much longer, he was sure he would melt. They were always covered, so he was savoring this moment for as long as he was allowed to. 

“What were you planning on trying, dear?” Aziraphale asked, not breaking his gaze. Neither was Crowley. 

“Hm?” Crowley asked softly. He wasn’t too sure if he heard Aziraphale actually say something. He didn’t want to move. 

“...Keep that breathless charm... Won't you please arrange it?...'Cause I love you, just the way you look tonight...” 

“You wanted to try something? What was it?” Aziraphale asked, batting his eyelashes. Crowley woke from his trance-like state. 

“Oh, yes. I'd like to dance with you, if that’s alright?” Crowley asked, hoping he sounded somewhat like James Dean, but really sounded more like he was asking his date to dance at their high school prom. 

“Dance? Of course, that sounds really wonderful, Crowley. Do you mind me asking if know how to dance?” Aziraphale asked, and Crowley shook his head, feeling rather foolish, come to think of it. 

"Well, not to worry, we have already accomplished one step. We're already holding hands!” Aziraphale chuckled, easing the mood. They both looked down at their hands, cheeks almost burning. A sobering moment. Cliché, but their hands fit together. 

“I think have to... If you don’t mind?” Crowley began, taking his hands from Aziraphale. He quickly adjusted his sunglasses, and placed his hands gently on the angel’s hips. Aziraphale took a deep breath to himself, and nodded. 

“Y-Yes, that seems to be right.” said Aziraphale, feeling his heart beat faster with every passing second. He could have nearly passed out from the overwhelming bliss. “And I think that I-I have to put my hands..” he gingerly placed his hands on Crowley’s shoulders. “Here?” 

Crowley gulped, and nodded. “Yes, that’s.. That’s good.” 

“...Oh won't you please arrange it?..'Cause I love you, just the way you look tonight...Just the way you look tonight...” 

The music blended effortlessly into another repeat. Perhaps another sneaky doing of Crowley. 

“We have to move, that much I do know.” Crowley said, earning a smile from Aziraphale.

“Well, yes. That is how one dances.” Aziraphale giggled.

“Oh really? I wouldn’t have known!” Crowley remarked, sarcastically, a charming smirk on his lips.

“Oh come now, Crowley. Don’t be like that, my dear! Just... Follow my lead.” Aziraphale began stepping from side to side, Crowley following suit.

“See? This doesn’t seem too bad, does it?” Aziraphale said, finding he was getting into the swing of things.

“...I will feel a glow just thinking of you...And the way you look tonight...”

“No, I guess not.” Crowley replied, his hands relaxed on Aziraphale’s hips. 

They swayed together with the music, familiarizing themselves with how the other moved and felt to touch. They stole a few quick glances at each other, nervousness made clear through their laughter.

The music helped them relax. There was something about that piano that made their steps feel lighter than air. There may very well have been no ground beneath them, their elated states were enough to keep them airborne. They could endure this dance for eternity. Nobody could take this bliss away from them.

“Crowley? Can I ask you something? And by all means, I don’t mean this to come off as impolite.” Aziraphale asked, softly.

“Sure, angel.” Crowley said, his brain casually rattling for whatever question Aziraphale could possibly ask him at this moment.

“If it’s alright with you, I would love to see your eyes again. Could I look at them while we dance?” Aziraphale asked, almost bashful at the question. Crowley raised his eyebrows. This wasn’t any of the thousands of questions he’d conjured in his mind. 

“Oh.. Yeah, sure.” Crowley reached up to remove the sunglasses, his eyes averting Aziraphale’s gaze. He put them into his pocket, and placed his hands back on Aziraphale. “There.” 

“Crowley, you can look at me. I.. I love your eyes. I always have.” confessed Aziraphale. Crowley looked into Aziraphale’s eyes, and he was sure he heard the angel gasp.

“They’re... They’re simply breathtaking, Crowley..” Aziraphale sighed. Crowley, not used to such words of affection about something he considered an imperfection, was now blushing furiously.

“They’re nothing, really. I mean, everyone’s got ‘em. Eyeballs, I mean..” Crowley was trying to take the attention away from himself. He noticed Aziraphale had stepped a little closer. Perhaps to get a closer look.

“No, really. They’re as warm as the first rays of a new day. They’re as beautiful and radiant as the freshest marigolds of the new season. They’re dangerously hypnotizing. But I am willing to get lost in them, if you’ll allow me to.”

Crowley couldn’t believe the words he was hearing, his eyes opening wider with astonishment. All he could do was smile. A smile that grew bigger as his mind repeated the words Aziraphale had just said. 

“...Oh but you're lovely, with your smile so warm...”

“You really think so?” Crowley asked, nearly nose to nose with the angel. Aziraphale nodded, adoringly. 

“Without a doubt.” Aziraphale smiled. Crowley found his focus being dragged to Aziraphale’s lips. He couldn’t help himself.

“What else do you think, angel?” Crowley asked, a slight change in his tone, shifting his focus back to Azirphale’s eyes.

“What else do I think?” Aziraphale repeated, Crowley nodding. But of course, Aziraphale understood. The feeling was obviously mutual. Just in case that wasn’t so obvious from the start.

“...There is nothing for me but to love you...Just the way you look tonight...”

“Well, your hair resembles the fiery autumn leaves, radiant in the warm, evening sun. Bold and striking to the naked eye, and.. If I may?” Aziraphale signaled with his hand, and Crowley nodded. Aziraphale slowly reached his hand up to Crowley’s hair, and took a sharp intake of breath, finally touching it.

“Delicate and feather soft to touch.” he sighed. “Light between my fingers like fresh blades of grass.” Aziraphale was now slowly brushing his fingers through Crowley’s hair. Crowley closed his eyes, a guttural moan erupting from him. The sensation of pleasure was almost overwhelming to him and he stepped closer to Aziraphale to feel more. His hands had snaked their way around the angel, pulling them closer. They were now flush against each other, neither one minding the lack of personal space.

“Go on...” Crowley’s voice was throaty, eyes on Aziraphale again. Aziraphale noticed Crowley’s eyes were more yellow than usual. They were fascinating. Aziraphale wasn’t startled or frightened. He knew what it meant.

“What else is there left to say about one so... Elegant... Radiant... Magnificent..” Aziraphale’s attention was tied between Crowley’s full yellow eyes, and his parted lips. Both equally tempting. 

Which is what happened. 

Time came to a halt when their lips first met. Their eyes closed upon contact, the urgency evident between them. Their lips soft, melting together, finally unifying them. Crowley pulled Aziraphale impossibly closer to him securely, breathing him in through his nose like he was fresh air. Aziraphale was gripping Crowley’s vest, almost clinging for dear life. 

“..Lovely never, never change... Keep that breathless charm...” 

Aziraphale’s hand found it’s way back to Crowley’s hair, soft and familiar, something Aziraphale swore he’d never get tired of. This made Crowley suddenly moan into the kiss, a sound that thrilled Aziraphale. A sound that made him grip Crowley’s hair just a tad to see what would happen. Crowley pulled away, stopping the kiss. Aziraphale’s eyes shot open in a panic, pulling his hands back to himself.

“O-Oh dear, Crowley, are you alright? I thought I was doing something right a-and-” Aziraphale stammered, his breathing a little rapid and cheek flushed.

Crowley’s eyes were still closed. “Angel..” Crowley’s voice was scratchy. “I think it’d be very wise of you to do that again..” He opened his eyes now, brilliantly gold, with full blown pupils peering at Aziraphale through half lidded eyes.

“Again?” Aziraphale repeated in a near whisper. Crowley nodded, stepping over to Aziraphale, who stared back in complete wonderment, bright blue eyes fusing with dazzling amber hues. 

“Again.” Crowley said softly, “And only if you want to, I mean-” Aziraphale didn’t know where the confidence came from, but just knowing he made Crowley feel this way, it gave him a sudden drive. He didn’t waste time, catching Crowley off-guard. 

“...With each word your tenderness grows... Tearing my fear apart..”

Their lips met again with a ravenous force, a flame ablaze they undeniably yearned to quench. Hungry hands roaming each other freely. Crowley cupped Aziraphale’s cheeks in his hands, kissing him deeply. Anything to have him closer. There were no prying eyes on them. Once more, Aziraphale’s fingers brushed through Crowley’s hair, earning a very satisfied purr from the demon. Almost mischievously, he gently tugged Crowley’s hair. 

Crowley released a suppressed moan, a sound Aziraphale could only describe as euphonious. Almost like an instinct, he nipped the angel’s bottom lip, causing Aziraphale to wince slightly. Crowley was about to stop to ask him if he was alright, but Aziraphale instantaneously pulled him back into the kiss, knowing just what he had to do to make him do that again. 

“My dear... I’m not made of glass... I won’t simply crack.” Aziraphale breath was raspy between kisses. Crowley’s hands then trailed down to the angel’s back, and he deviously grabbed his buttocks, giving them a tender squeeze. It was Aziraphale’s turn to moan, a sound so blissful it made Crowley dizzy with lust. 

Crowley gently guided them towards the couch, never parting for a breath. Aziraphale collapsed onto the couch, dragging Crowley down with him. The demon straddled his hips, completely flush against Aziraphale. 

“Better be careful, angel.” Crowley growled playfully when he noticed Aziraphale was attempting to remove his vest. But he needn’t stop him.

“Mm? Why?” Aziraphale asked, not opening his eyes. Crowley pulled away from the kiss briefly, his lips trailing down to Aziraphale’s jawline, peppering along it with light kisses. Aziraphale’s head hit the top of the couch with a soft thud, giving Crowley more access to his neck. He stopped fumbling with the vest, giving in to the immense pleasure. They were breathing quicker, more excited at every touch, sensation.

“To put it simply... If a foul fiend were to see something... As painfully tantalizing as you...” he said between kisses, “Something ghastly may happen..” Crowley’s lips made their way to his neck, obviously a sensitive area for the angel, who let out a pleasurable gasp.

“Ohh, whatever might happen to me?” Aziraphale played along. Something in the way Aziraphale sounded turned Crowley on even more than he thought was possible. Of course, it was made obvious through his effort.

“Nng.. Oh you wouldn’t like to find out, angel.” Crowley tried to restrain himself.

“Oh... But I really do, my dear- Oooh, Crowley!” Aziraphale whined, cut off when he felt Crowley’s hips grind painstakingly slow onto his as he kissed behind his ear. He was worshiping him. Aziraphale

“A demon might possess you, Aziraphale.” Crowley growled into his ear, returning to Aziraphale’s lips for a heated kiss. Aziraphale pulled him closer, gripping his thighs, letting him know that he very much liked what he was doing. 

“If I may... I’m willing to be yours to possess, Crowley.” Aziraphale insinuated during a breath. A devilish smile spread across Crowley’s lips, and nothing but adoration filling his eyes.

“~Oh, angel~.”


End file.
